The Joker
by Indistinct In The Twilight
Summary: Seth has been enlisted by a secret group to track down a rogue member of theirs. What started out as a simple quest has become Seth's life. Years of tracking whispers of the enigmatic 'black wave' lead Seth to Silvermoor and Zorthanc, where he gains some unusual companions. Can Seth and his new friends stop the oncoming deluge? *COMPANION FIC TO THE EVENING STAR'S FINAL REVOLUTION*
1. Chapter 1: The SCONES

**A/N: ****Yes, hello Fablehaven fandom! It's me again. I've missed you all dreadfully. Now, a few notes on the text:**

**1) The title, The Joker, does not pertain to Batman whatsoever (this will not be a crossover - honestly, I think a Batman/Seth mash-up would just be too much awesomeness for one story anyway). It's the title of a song by the Steve Miller Band. **

**2) There will be some allusions to the companion fic of this story, The Evening Star's Final Revolution. That said, if you haven't read ESFR you won't be entirely lost so, please, keep reading!**

**3) Feel free to ridicule my attempt at giving them (you'll find out shortly to whom I'm referring) accents. I laughed while writing it, so I hope you laugh while reading it.**

**Also, I'm looking for a beta. If you're interested, PM me! **

**Disclaimer: It's safe to say that roughly 90% of the characters and settings in this story belong to Brandon Mull.**

* * *

It all started when Seth was going through his 'normal' phase. Three months had passed since Bracken and Kendra had married.

"You're renting an apartment?" Kendra asked him for the second time, as if she hadn't heard him correctly. "And got a job? As a construction worker?"

"Yes," Seth verified in exasperation. "Why is that so crazy?"

"Because you're Seth. My little brother Seth, who believes that paying your electric bill equates to buying into a government scam. Getting an apartment and a real job is something a responsible guy in his early twenties might do."

"I'm a responsible guy in his early twenties!" Seth said indignantly.

Kendra pointedly ignored his comment. "And being a construction worker has never fallen on your infinitely long list of careers you've wanted to have."

"That's not true! There was a week - between the detective and the ninja stages - when I thought I'd look rather dashing in an orange vest. You don't remember it because you were away at camp."

Kendra eyed him doubtfully. "I thought you were going to see the world some more. You're Seth Sorenson, shadow charmer extraordinaire. What happened to your wanderlust?"

"It evaporated into wanderdust when the world decided to be boring," he mumbled sullenly.

Kendra wrinkled her nose at him. "What?"

"Nothing," he waved her off. Seth stood up from the kitchen table. For a moment he watched his sister bustle about preparing lunch. It was still weird to him to see Kendra taking care of the house at Fablehaven. She was managing really well with Bracken. Seth was a little more than slightly jealous that Fablehaven had been bequeathed to his sister, but, logically, he knew that his grandfather had made the right decision. Seth was stuck between being frustrated at not being able to find his place like everyone else and not _wanting_ to find his place like everyone else.

Seth declined to tell his sister that, in light of recent events, he'd decided to fight fire with fire, so to speak. He was going to ward off a boring life by living a boring life.

"I've got to go," Seth announced.

"Go? You just got here!" Kendra frowned.

"I have to go," Seth repeated. "I just needed to stock back up on my milk." He gestured toward the glass bottles on the table.

"What's your rush?"

"I've got a date," he said offhandedly.

Kendra froze. And then she laughed. "A date? With a girl?"

"No, with a cross-dressing satyr," Seth deadpanned. Kendra took a moment to glare at him, though the corners of her mouth remained upturned.

"Yes, with a girl."

"What's she like?" Kendra asked, still smiling. "Where did you meet her? Do Mom and Dad know?"

"I met her at a coffee shop next to my apartment. No, Mom and Dad don't know yet. And she's... nice."

Kendra shook her head in disbelief. "An apartment, meeting a 'nice' girl at a coffee shop - Seth, are you feeling well?"

Seth felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Not because his sister was teasing him, but because she was looking at him with serious concern.

"Bye, Kendra," Seth stormed out of the house. He ignored her pleas to come back and halfhearted apologies.

Seth knew he wasn't really mad at Kendra. He was mad at what was happening to Kendra and to himself. He could feel the invisible pressure to do as she was doing - getting into the routine of things. Life was beginning to feel stale. It had been ever since the wedding. And he didn't like it.

He'd tried to walk down the opposite side of the hallway (as it were), searching for any sort of adventure. He even had tried staying with Kendra and Bracken, helping them out around the preserve. But he still felt bored. So he'd decided to take the opposite approach.

He'd gotten an apartment in a town near the preserve. The sign had been up advertising it on the lawn. It was a fully furnished down-town rental. Seth had called the real estate agent, signed the papers, and paid the first month's rent (he'd accumulated a significant amount of funds throughout his adventures). He'd spent the first day making his apartment more homey. Meaning, he stocked his cabinets with cereal and arranged his dirty laundry in decorative stacks up and down the hall.

The coffee shop was across the street from his new home. He'd walked over to get his daily dose of espresso, and he saw her. She was a tall, with a cute smile, brown hair and brown eyes - plain, but cute. Seth found himself 'accidentally bumping into her' and then asking her to meet him there again later.

Their date went over pretty well. Turned out she was the editor of the local newspaper, and was a big fan of fantasy books. She laughed at all of his jokes, and liked to listen to his "fantastical stories" (otherwise known as his real life adventures that he portrayed as a work of fiction he'd created for a series of novels he was working on). At the end of the date, he had her phone number and a promise for another date the next day.

And so Seth began the brief interlude known as his 'normal' phase. Which lasted for all of two weeks.

*.*.*.*.*

Kylee - that was Seth's girlfriend's name - had been in the habit of coming over to Seth's apartment early in the morning. Typically, she brought him breakfast from the coffee shop.

Seth had just stepped out of the shower. His clothes clung to his body where he had failed to properly dry himself. He had slept in and was late for work. A vibrating rumble emitted from his stomach, sending Seth scurrying to the kitchen.

His eyes scanned the room. A gleam caught his eye.

On the counter, atop a polished porcelain plate, sat a triangular scone. Next to the scone there was a yellow envelope, with a red seal, bearing Seth's name. Seth did a three-sixty turn.

"Kylee!" he called.

No answer.

"Must've left the door open again," he muttered to the empty air. "Wonder why she didn't wake me..."

First, he inspected the envelope. "Is it Valentine's Day? I could have sworn it was January yesterday. Crap, she's going to kill me for forgetting," he groaned. The warm scents of vanilla and fresh blueberry filled the air. Seth felt a greater pang of guilt upon seeing that the scone was clearly homemade. He grabbed the letter absentmindedly, his mind already at work on how he would make it up to her.

Seth tore open the seal. While pulling out the letter, he grabbed the scone from the plate and brought it to his lips.

It was not the cliche, flirtatious poem he'd expected. There was only one line. A single question.

_Will you help us? _

"Us?" Seth wondered aloud, the scone a hair's breath away from his mouth. "Are we in trouble?"

He shrugged, feeling foolish. Had his and Kylee's relationship been on the decline, and he'd just not noticed? As much as hated to admit it, there was a distinct possibility that he'd been unconsciously distancing himself from his girlfriend. He couldn't help it. He was already bored with be boring.

Still, that didn't make it right for him to through away Kylee. She deserved better.

"Whatever it is, I'll make it right," he vowed, at last biting down on the scone.

He closed his eyes in unexpected pleasure, the delicious, sugary goodness dancing about in his mouth.

"This is the best scone ever!" he exclaimed as he opened his eyes. The 'best scone ever' fell from his hands onto the floor and was forgotten immediately.

"Um, _what_?"

Seth was no longer in his apartment kitchen. From best he could tell in the dim torchlight, he was in a underground room made entirely of dirt.

"Oh, jeez!" He jumped back against the wall.

A dozen yellow-eyed creatures stared back at Seth from around a dusty, circular table that appeared to be made of driftwood. The table rose to about Seth's hip; therefore, the creatures sitting in the high-backed, much-too-large-for-their-small-selves chairs would reach only to his knee. One chair, he noted, was empty. He was outnumbered, but at least he had height to his advantage.

What good that did him, Seth had yet to figure out.

The creatures were like something off of Sesame Street, with fuzzy, blue hair covering their bodies and standing straight up from their heads, making them look like they were triangles. The hair on their hands, feet, and faces more so resembled curly fur. They had bulbous noses and enormous eye-brows, under which their white-pupiled, creepy, yellow gazes were fixed on Seth.

"Waz' 'at?" shouted one of the little people.

"Ooo's 'e?"

"I think izza boy!"

"You what?"

One of the creatures quirked up an extremely large brow at the guy next to him. "As in, a 'uman boy?"

The one who had made the observation squinted in affirmation.

"No!"

"Can't be."

"'Umans are a'stinct. Everybody knows that," the one with the crazy brow nodded his head decisively, as if he'd settled the matter.

"'Umans ain't a'stinct! We seen'em last week when we helped the one with the lovely lady get the dragon thin'."

"Oh yeah!" All of the little blue creatures nodded in unison.

The one with the quirked brow sighed. "I'm too old to be 'memberin' 'iss stuff."

"No," One of them squinted up at Seth. "Look'a what he's got in his 'ands. Izza' a letter we sent! It's not a boy. It's _the_ boy, the shadow charmer we sent for!"

"You sent this?" Seth held up the letter. "Is this what brought me here? I guess it works like a teleport? I thought my girlfriend sent this." Seth paused, looking away. His mouth formed an 'o' shape.

"This means I didn't forget Valentine's Day!" Seth pumped his fist in the air.

The blue creatures tilted their heads at him in confusion. "Talkin' nonsense, 'ee is."

"Not right, this one."

"I'm not talking nonsense," Seth said defensively, as he inched closer to the table. "I'm talking about... You know what? Nevermind." Seth shook his head. "Why am I here? Who are you? Where are we?"

"Too many questions!" one of the little men cried out. He put his hands over his hair, near where Seth suspected his ears might be, though he couldn't see any.

"Okay, I'll ask one at a time." Seth said slowly. "Who. Are. You?" He inserted a pause between each word.

"We're the S.C.O.N.E.S," two of the little men said in unison.

"Yes, I know you sent me a scone. By the way, it wasn't poisoned was it?" he glared down at the group suspiciously. They all shook their heads quickly.

"No!"

"Never!"

"We don't 'urt, we '_elp_!"

"Right. S.C.O.N.E.S. Stands for, Sideline Collective of 'Nonymous 'ElperS."

Seth drug a hand over his face. "There are just so many things. I can't even."

"We haven't always been the S.C.O.N.E.S," one said very matter-o'-factly.

"We used a'be F.O.O.D.S. Fools 'Ool 'Olways Do Something."

"And then we was J.E.L.O. Just 'Elping Lots Others."

"Actually, jello is spelled with two l's," Seth corrected.

The one who had made the comment burst into laughter. "Yea, yea, right! At's a good one."

"We's always food stuffs," one said thoughtfully.

"Ats 'cause the original name was sometin' 'bout food," another reminded him.

"But we forgot it," a third chimed in.

"So if we keep changing it we figure-" they said to Seth.

"We'll eventually get it right."

Seth crossed his arms. He didn't feel that he was in any immediate danger from this bunch. "What do you mean you're helpers?"

"You ever reach for somethin' in that moment and just when you think you are done for and your goose is cooked-"

"Cooked as can be."

"Actually, is pretty much burnt."

"Will you shut it?"

"When you look back, we go to work-" the first one continued.

"And you reach for your sword or for the crown or whatever it is, we're the one's who pushed it an inch in your direction so you could reach it."

Strangely, Seth actually knew what they meant. There were several times in his hero career that'd he could have sworn that the limb was just too high or the dagger just to far out of reach. If these guys were telling the truth, then he and a lot of other people he knew owed these weird creatures their lives.

"How could you possibly do that? Wouldn't you be seen? How come I've never heard of you?"

"We travel in the shadows."

"Like you!" A chorus of head nods followed this. They looked quite funny bobbing their heads, with no necks to speak of.

"Nobody knows about us."

"We's very secret."

"We's been here since the beginnin'!"

"And we'll be here at the end."

"We knew the _molea_ when she was'a wee babe." This sent a few into fits of roaring laughter.

"Though she didn' know us." They all shook their heads again. A couple giggled.

Seth was having hard time processing this. "No one - not a single person - in the entire world knows about you guys? In the history of the entire world knows about you guys?"

They all shook their heads.

"Then why am I here? Why tell me? Why now?"

"We need your 'elp."

Suddenly, the room seemed to darken. The torches flickered and the little men became grim.

"The reason we have remained secret is because we are the only ones fluent in the languages of both Chaos and Creation."

Seth sucked in. An image flashed before his eyes of Kendra lying unconscious in his arms, ugly words seared onto the exposed skin of her chest.

"Only evil things speak that language," Seth observed somberly.

The blue man who had spoken shook his head once. "There are those who would say such of being a shadow charmer."

Seth winced.

"We are like you, Seth Sorenson. We carry both light and dark within us."

"We's nece'sary for the continued egg'sistence of life."

"We's the balance."

An unpleasant thought came to the forefront of Seth's mind. "So does that mean," Seth clenched his fists at his sides. "That you hinder those as often as you help them?"

The room grew silent.

"No," said one at last. "We speak Chaos, but we do not enact it." He looked at Seth steadily.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Seth challenged him.

"You cain't make us say them words without a proper reason. It's bad."

Seth acquiesced thinking again of Kendra.

"We know what it is you 'member, Seth. You have seen how much damage a few words in Chaos can do."

"Yes," Seth shifted his weight uncomfortably. "And? What's the point here?"

"You see we're missing the one." They pointed to the chair. Seth nodded.

"We's lost 'em."

"And you want me to find him?" Seth demanded incredulously.

"Yea!" They brightened.

"Maybe he just wanted a vacation," Seth rolled his eyes. "I've only been around you for ten minutes and you're all already driving me nuts."

They squirmed in their seats.

"Actually, we think he may'ah gone _rogue_."

Seth stiffened. "What makes you say that?"

"A black wave," one said quietly, turning away in his chair so Seth couldn't see his face. "A black wave of Chaos."

A peculiar sense of dread settled upon Seth. He shivered, suddenly aware of the drafty, dampness of the underground room. "What's he talking about? What does he mean 'a black wave'?"

"We don't know," one said.

"Which is why we need you to find 'im."

"And bring 'im back to us."

"Why don't you go get him yourselves?"

"Ain't you been listenin'? We cain't interfere. Not directly. We work in the shadows."

"Well he's breaking the rules isn't he? Can't you break the rules because he did?"

They frowned at him. "That's faulty logic, that is."

"Okay," Seth massaged his temples. "Why would I help you guys?"

"You said you would."

"No, I didn't."

"You said, 'Whatever it is, I'll make it right'. And you ate the offering'."

Seth threw up in hands in exasperation. "I told you I thought it was from my girlfriend!"

"Believe us when we say t'is may be the most 'portant thin' you ever do."

"You think it's that bad?"

"We think it's worse."

Seth surveyed the hopeful faces around him. If he was being honest, he kind of liked the little guys. He wasn't sure that he completely trusted them, but they had kind faces. And then there was what the one had said about the black wave...

Seth thought about his life - the apartment, working construction from nine to five, movie marathons with Kylee - and he realized that he was going to have to say good-bye to his brief affair with normalcy.

The thought both saddened and excited him. More so excited really. Because, come on, a secret organization and a satanic blue muppet on the loose?

He clapped his hands loudly, the sound causing several of the S.C.O.N.E.S to jump. "Where do I sign?"


	2. Chapter 2: Of Otters and Ursula

Silence. Warm, dark, pervasive silence. Stillness. Solemn, thoughtful stillness.

A word, mumbled, is breathed into the room like a cool gust of air. One syllable, a thousand intonations creating a veritable symphony. It's a grey word, a serious one, brimming with the goose-bump eliciting excitement of powerful magic. A bister hued dust cloud rises up from the table as the driftwood pieces begin to stir, like cogs slowly starting to clink to animation. They shift directions and maneuver to form a series of bands. The outermost and widest band begins to move in a clock-wise direction at a pace reminiscent of a jog. The second band moves counter-clockwise at an increased pace. The third band move clockwise at an even faster pace, and so on and so forth to the middle of the table where a lone piece of driftwood spins impossibly fast.

The dust cloud lingers in the air above the table and gathers round this piece, funneling and forming a mini-tornado. Twenty-two yellow eyes fix on the heart of this shrunken twister. A murky image wavers into existence. It is similar to looking into a reflection in a dirty puddle through smudged glass. Only, it is not a picture of fuzzy, blue men that appears above the table.

The image is of a man in his twenties standing alone at the edge of a dock, looking out across a large body of water (presumably an ocean).

"Waz on 'is face?"

"It's me uncle!"

"No, it ain't, ya ninny! Ya ain't even got an uncle."

"Iz' clearly an otter who is keepin' 'is face warm."

"I like otters."

"Me too, but not raw."

"And not on me face!"

"Not the face!"

"Oi! 'Oos that who's talkin' to 'im?"

"It's another man! Is he a rotter? 'Ey?"

"Shhh! Listen!"

Out of the dusty void a metallic echoing voice emitted, speaking in a friendly but cautious tone to the man they had been watching. The blue men leaned into the dusty vision, an alert hush falling over them.

* * *

The Australian summer sun was harshly beaming down on them from the cloudless heavens, and the guy was wearing a gray wet-suit that covered him, from head to toe, leaving only room to expose his features and his voluptuous beard. Needless to say, he did not look comfortable. Blue-green goggles covered his eyes. He breathing was labored, and sweat-stains were clearly visible under his arms.

"Lieutenant!" The bearded man in the wet-suit playfully saluted the other who had joined him at the edge of the dock.

The Lieutenant narrowed his eyes. Disbelief broke out across his face in the form of a wide-eyed stare and a gaping jaw. "What? There's no way! Seth? Seth Sorenson?"

"The one and only. How've you been Travis?"

"How have I been? How have _you_ been? Where have you been? Your sister, your family - Seth, everybody thinks you're dead!"

"Really?" Seth asked with apparent disinterest, his focus narrowed on the waters.

"Why haven't you contacted them in so long? Where have you been?" he asked again.

"Busy. Traveling. Important," Seth mumbled distractedly.

The Lieutenant's features shifted from shock to anger. "What's so important that you disappeared for long enough to make your family think you're dead?" When Seth didn't answer, Travis grabbed Seth's shoulders and turned him about to face him. Seth's neck craned his eyes remaining affixed on the ocean.

Travis took a minute, seeming to swallow his frustration and scrutinized his friend. Travis' brow furrowed as he took in his haggard appearance.

"Seth. Talk to me. Why are you here? Do you know what lives here?"

"Do you?" Seth shot him a dubious look.

The Lieutenant released him. After a calculated pause he answered, "Yes. A watery demon of formidable power. She's old - ancient - and spends the majority of her time in a catatonic state. There once were many like her. She is the last of her kind. A bunyip."

"Looks like and Octobear mixed with a Sirrush. Is the opposite of the Rainbow Serpent - fuels grotesque ingenuity." Seth was mumbling again and Travis was straining to hear him.

"She once was associated with Nagi Luna and her ilk. The Knights sent me here to check on her because of the things that have been going on. Weird things, Seth. Dark waves," Seth turned to him sharply at the mention of the dark waves. Travis superficially misread the gesture and continued. "And disappearances, all around the world - we suspect the Evening Star."

"It isn't them."

Travis blinked in surprise. "You know about this? How? Have you been investigating?"

* * *

The blue men chuckled in their far off room. "Ee's quick that one."

"Shh!" The others reprimanded him. They began listening again.

* * *

"Look, Travis, I don't have time to explain. However bad you think this is, it's worse. However much you think you know, you don't know anything. I have to do this. You need to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere." Travis crossed his arms stubbornly. "I have my orders. From _your_ grandfather. I'm investigating. And if you know what's going on, you need to let us know too. We can help you. You can't just throw your family and friends away, Seth."

Seth winced at the sting. Then his face hardened. "Tell them I miss them, Travis, and that I'm doing this to keep them safe."

Before the Lieutenant could even think to reply Seth's hands became a blur when he promptly punched Travis in the face, sending his friend crumpling to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

"Learned that in Cambodia, 'ee did," one of the S.C.O.N.E.S approved.

They watched Seth drag his friend's body away from the dock. When he walked back, he pulled out a small scroll from a leather satchel that hung across his person.

* * *

With resignation, Seth read aloud from the scroll.

The water at the edge of the dock began to boil and froth. A massive creature protruded forth from the turbulence. It had a dozen heavy, writhing legs in place of it's torso. It's upper body was a disgusting coat of what could only be described as molting black fur and onyx scales. It's face was that of a fiercely hideous canine, with a square jaw, long whiskers, and two uneven fangs. The only indication of its gender was its rather shapely bust, which more than any of its other features made Seth cringe.

The tentacles of the monster rested above the waves, treading the surface of the water. It tried to lunge at Seth, but remained in place as if trapped by an invisible force. Quickly it ascertained its situation and ceased its attempts at breaking free. A pair of smoldering eyes leered down at Seth.

If Seth was afraid, he didn't show it. He observed the demon with a blank expression.

"You must be Ursula's ugly stepsister. I'm Seth. Pleased to make your acquaintance." The young shadow charmer deadpanned. Hissing in offense, the demon struggled against the invisible, cylindrical confines of its prison.

Seth rolled his eyes. "Okay, let's make this quick. I hear you can get me to Silvermoor?"

The demon eyed him with apparent loathing, but nodded.

* * *

The blue men shivered at its suppressed smile.

"Why isn't it talkin'?"

"Seth put a spell on it to bind it an' keep it from speakin'..."

"The spell basically makes her do what he wants her to..."

"Remember? Nepal? The mountain troll of Everest?"

"We just went over that a' hour ago!"

"Weren't you listenin'?"

"I was cleanin' me ears," the S.C.O.N.E sniffed.

"You was pickin' your nose."

"_Was_ not!"

"Shut it, the both of ya!"

* * *

"I have woken you up, and have bound you to my will. In repayment for your service I offer you this." Seth fished around his satchel blindly, not breaking eye-contact with the demon.

* * *

"It'll 'ave to be somethin' of personal value."

"An' somethin' powerful too."

* * *

Seth procured a small vial of white liquid nearly three-quarters full.

"This is the courage potion that I drank to defeat the revenant at Fablehaven." He tossed it into the roiling water beneath the bunyip.

For a moment the bunyip did nothing except continue to glare down at Seth. With a screech of indignation, a swirl of indigo magic began to emit from around its body.

Seth stepped toward the edge of the dock. The magic had created a vortex in the waters. It tunneled down into the ocean out of sight.

The demon's anger seemed to have dissipated. She smiled sickly sweet and gestured for Seth to jump into the whirlpool. As Seth leaped midair his hand moved from his pocket to his face. A wooden mask was suctioned to his face, not unlike a surgical mask except without any attachment to it to go around the head. The demon, upon seeing this, tried to lunge at him with an ear-splitting howl of rage.

The water swallowed up Seth, the demon was pulled back down into her watery prison, and the waters were calm once more.

* * *

"'Old on, what jus' 'appened?"

"Don't you ever pay attention!" the others moaned.

"I 'member when he fell and dropped his trinket..."

"'Iz called a taly-man!"

"Yea, tha'. And Bertie here snuck it back closer."

"He said thanks!" Bert sighed happily at the memory. Seth would have recognized Bert as the S.C.O.N.E. with disproportionately large eyebrows, had he seen him. If the S.C.O.N.E.S had a leader, it was Bert. "It was'a first time anybody ever said thanks 'a me in me life."

"And it'll be tha' last," the blue man next to Bert sniggered.

One of the S.C.O.N.E.S waved his hand at the blank dust cloud. "The demon thought Seth didn't know she could collapse the airways in the tunnel, thereby suffocating him on his way. But he 'ad that enchanted mask thing he'd dueled the wraith lord for in Turkey. It'll give 'im ox'gen. She'll empty 'im out low though, and try ta' drown 'im."

Bert frowned. "But he put tha' potion stuff on his clothes to keep 'imself dry. The stuff he traded for in Iceland."

"Still, 'e'll 'ave a 'ard time gettin' outta this alive."

"What if he don't make it?"

Each of the ancient blue men looked at one another in turn.

None of the S.C.O.N.E.S had an answer for that.

*.*.*.*.*

Seth felt that he had never truly experienced vertigo until that moment. Getting sucked along the current to Silvermoor in a very tight waterway with no air except what dribble was being created by the magic oxygen mask he was wearing, was perhaps one of the most unpleasant situations he'd ever found himself in. He imagined himself as a jellybean getting sucked really hard through a too-small straw. He had minutes, he knew, before he would find himself submerged beneath a hundred feet of frigid ocean water.

He'd applied the potion for keeping his clothes dry that he'd won from that Middle-eastern wraith to his outfit, but like all potions his had a time-limit. Seth needed to breach the surface and swim to the Silvermoor shore (which at best he would be ten yards away from) in under twenty minutes. There would be extremely strong distractor spells around Silvermoor that he would have to swim through as well.

And there also was a slight possibility that the bunyip would break free from Seth's spell. Instead of anxiety or fear, Seth pushed pass the nausea and dizziness to the earnest pulsing of his veins. Nearly six years of investigating all around the world, countless life-threatening undertakings, and this maddening life of _movement_ - running forward to find what was ahead of him, running backwards to discover what he'd missed, running in circles, so many times, helplessly watching the leads he had crumble around him, scrambling to redirect himself - six years which had culminated in a final mystery: Silvermoor.

Every instinct, every clue, had pinpointed Silvermoor as the hiding place of the rogue S.C.O.N.E. Seth had to find him, stop him, and do so quickly. He had learned that every hour wasted in the pursuit of this thing was another hour that the world came closer to destruction.

The waters had already begun to pour in, Seth thought as he sped along the burning-cold, tubular current, like flash floods. But they were isolated. The deluge had yet to emerge - or rather _submerge_.

And just as he thought the word submerge he found himself jettisoned out of the current.

An unwavering blackness engulfed him. No light. No noise. No movements. No bottom and no top. Immediately Seth began propelling himself upward with all his might. His muscles ached from the cold and the strain. He swam vertically for what felt like forever when the fathomless depths began to be illuminated. The water was warming too, which was good, because Seth could feel the cold-protectant beginning to wear-off.

His fingers had just breached the surface of the water, when a slimy coil wrapped around his ankle yanking him back down. Seth maneuvered himself to see the hideous dog-like face bearing fangs at him. Kicking himself free of the bunyip's grasp, he narrowly avoided getting her sharp tusks lodged into his thigh. Two of her tentacles shot out and grabbed his wrists. A smug, toothy grin broke out across the demon's face.

Seth knew she had waited to reveal herself. He would have been more prepared to defend himself initially, but he had grown tired. Now he was defenseless and weary of the weight of the ocean bearing down on him. Summoning his reservoirs of strength, he ripped off his mask and bit down hard into the tentacle. She released him with a watery snarl. Seth spun around, round-house kicking her mutt face. The bunyip's body went limp and she sank.

Seth was uncertain how but his feet found contact with a hard surface (the surface he assumed was the demon's body, though it felt surprisingly firm) the base for a kick that gave him the push he needed to get to the surface. Seth had lost his mask and was holding his breath. His vision was tainted with black as he swam back up as quickly as he could.

Upon reaching the surface Seth inhaled deeply. A little water got into his mouth as he lungs rapidly attempted to vacuum up the immediate atmosphere and he coughed violently. His eye roved around as he treaded water. A blankness entered his mind and panic set in.

No land in sight. Where was he? Why was he there? How had he gotten there? He couldn't remember. Why couldn't he remember? The empty air mocked him.

_It's okay, _he attempted to calm himself. _Surely I didn't end up out here like this by myself. There's got to be a boat somewhere, or a plane. Something! _

"Help!" Seth croaked out, desperately.

A movement across the water in the distance caught his eyes. Seth whirled around, teeth chattering, shivering. He knew one thing for certain - he needed to get out of the water soon or he was going to die of hypothermia.

"Help!" Seth tried again.

First, he heard a splash. Next, he heard a loud belch. Then, he saw it - a glittering, emerald-green crocodile thing rested a few yards away from him.

"A graulk?" Seth chattered out. He'd never seen one in person, but he'd heard about them. They were almost extinct. He knew there was one place that they were being bred, but he couldn't think properly in his freezing-to-death state to remember where that place was.

The graulk opened its jaw and a spurt of blue flame emitted. Luckily, the tips of the fire didn't reach Seth, his reaction time being relatively poor at the moment. The water boiled around him, warming him. Seth would have been grateful had the graulk not started advancing, jaws snapping vigorously, with what Seth could only assume was graulk for 'dinner!'. Seth's instincts took over, and he paddled as swiftly as he could in the opposite direction.

Once or twice Seth had to stop and look backward, forgetting why he was swimming away and then - once he saw the gaining graulk - wonder how in the world he'd ever forgotten. The graulk also kept sending him friendly, scathing-water-temperature-increase reminders to keep him going.

It was only when he saw the glittering silver shoreline appear out of nowhere, a mere few feet away from him that Seth able to remember where he was and how it could be that a graulk was chasing him. Suddenly, with a last bout of unexpected adrenaline, Seth was able to make it to the shore. His feet touched the beach and he scrambled onto dry land. Fatigue and the chill of the water made his knees knock and his stomach churn. Resolving to ignore his weariness, he stumbled onward.

A gate, as tall as a skyscraper, as shining as a polished bullet, and several yards wide, cast a looming shadow across the beach. Seth approached it tentatively. He squinted at the faint, multi-colored glimmer that appeared and disappeared when the rays of sun the air surrounding the gate.

"The Border Gate of Silvermoor," Seth whispered in awe. Alongside the gate, green hills appeared to line both sides of it, as far as the eye could see. The enchantment of the rainbow force field prevented him from seeing the truth of what lay behind it.

A menacing rumble interrupted his reverence.

Seth slowly turned to see the green graulk lying a few feet away, watching him with predatory hunger, tailing flicking back and forth in the resplendent sand. Now that Seth could get a better look at it, he realized it looked less like a crocodile and more like combination between a bearded dragon lizard and a Komodo dragon.

"Nice graulk," Seth held up his hands placatingly. "Any chance your master is nearby?"

The graulk grumbled and snapped his jaws in response. The beast advanced toward Seth.

"Listen, Mr. Graulk sir, I know you're endangered and all, so I'd rather not have to kill you. But I can't be graulk food today, I've got a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it in."

A piercing cry rang out in the air. Seth, mindful of the graulk, turned half-way to look back at the gate.

The Border Gate was creaking like the sounds a ship at sail makes. Seth tensed. The gate slowly raised up into the air being brought up by neither cords nor levers.

A white-haired elderly man with high, regally-set shoulders, stepped out from where the gate had been. At his side was another graulk - this one crimson - and an enormous eagle. The man had great white stag horns protruding from behind his ears. He wore blindingly white robes.

In a booming voice the horned man called out to Seth, "Shadow charmer, why do you seek entrance to this sanctuary?"

"You know that I'm a shadow charmer, but do you know who I am?" Seth called back, meeting the ebony skinned man's gaze evenly.

The man waited before responding. "You are one of the five mortals who have been made Eternal. You have the mark."

"Right. Name's Seth Sorenson. And I believe you're Jarrah, the caretaker of Silvermoor? Good friends with the Fairy Queen?"

Jarrah gave no indication he was going to answer.

"My sister is married to a unicorn and she's kind of a literal fairy princess. So, if you think about it, I'm kind of an extension of the fairy royal family. In which case, I'm allowed to visit the shrine of my - uh - family."

Jarrah's brow creased. "You nearly killed yourself so you could visit the shrine of the Queen?"

Seth shrugged. "I heard the one in Silvermoor was pretty nice this time of year."

"I am not supposed to allow creatures of darkness into Silvermoor."

"Well, um that's nice and all, especially because I'm not a creature of darkness. I'm human."

"You're a shadow charmer. Blessed by a demon." Jarrah's upper lip curled disdainfully.

"Okay, Jarrah. Look, I'm an Eternal, and I have no way off of this island except to swim. If I start swimming now I can probably make it a few yards. That bunyip thing probably has probably woken up by now and would be more than happy for me to join her out there so she could tear me to pieces. Then that will leave only four others keeping the Zzzyx from being opened - again."

Seth closed his eyes, acutely aware of tiredness of his body. "And of course I'll probably be dead soon if you leave me out here. If that," Seth pointed back to where the green graulk was watching the transaction, "doesn't eat me, then I'm pretty sure my body is going to shut down in the next ten minutes."

"So, the choice is yours, have an Eternal die on your doorstep and explain that to everybody - or - let me in."

Jarrah frowned at Seth. At length he spoke, "I do not like having my hand forced."

The old man turned on his heels. The eagle and the two graulks all mimicked their master. Seth sidestepped, letting the graulk by. The pair glared at each other as the over-grown lizard slinked past.

Seth felt his heart sink watching them. After all he'd done. After everything he'd gone through...

"But I will not let any good man die on my doorstep, much less an Eternal." Astonished, Seth saw that Jarrah had stopped, waiting for Seth on just the other side of the gate. With as much grace as he could muster, Seth walked across the beach and joined Jarrah. Before turning around Seth watched the gate descend back into place. Then, he did the only logical thing he could think of.

He passed out.

*.*.*.*.*

"An' 'ee's in!" Bert bellowed.

"Well, sorta' in."

"Ee's still gotta get to the other side."

"An' ees' gotta find tha' witch."

"An' tha' caretaker ain't gonna let him, nowhere, nohow. An' the witch, well there ain't no tellin' with her!"

"Seth's gonna 'ave a time, tha's for sure."

"Too much negativity!" The S.C.O.N.E squeaked, putting his hands over his ears.

"You what?" Asked one S.C.O.N.E who was hard of hearing.

"Iz' real problem is gonna be not with her or 'im, but with _her._"_  
_

"Ooo." All the other S.C.O.N.E.S murmured in unison.

"True, true."

"She's a tricky one."

"Not very nice."

"No. Very, _very_ grumpy."

"Gotta 'gree with ya there."

"She doesn't like otters!" The S.C.O.N.E with his hands over his ears yelled.

They collectively gasped.

"Poor, Seth," they mourned.

* * *

**A/N: Happy Fic Friday! (Which, I just now discovered, is a thing!) Sorry it took so long on the update. ****Please review! Feedback is my milk - it helps me see the magic.**

**Yes, I went there. **


	3. Chapter 3: Post Haste, Antler-Man

Seth awoke hours later in an unfamiliar room. For a moment, as he squinted into the glare of diminishing light that shone through the high arched window, he'd forgotten where he was or how he'd gotten there. But that was okay, because he was warm and the cushions beneath him were plush and cozy. For a second the world was okay.

"Of what did you dream, Seth Sorenson?"

Seth quickly sat up, his body tensed. But when he saw that it was Jarrah, he relaxed his posture. Jarrah across from him sat in a chair that appeared to be made of leaves. Seth looked down to see that he was lying on a literal bed of tightly-packed, golden flowers. Curious, Seth did a quick survey of the rest of the room.

As best he could tell, Seth was in a giant wooden ball. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all the same reddish-brown wood. There was no break in the continuity. Giant, green leaves that gleamed with a layer of wetness, protruded randomly around the room. The high ceiling formed a dome shape. The walls dipped down into the floor. The door was a small opening cut into the curve above the floor, which Seth knew instinctively he would have to bend down to get through. He wondered how Jarrah, with his enormous antlers, got through it.

A multi-colored beaded curtain distorted Seth's view of what lay beyond the room. The light shone through the glass beads, causing a rainbow hued cloud of dots to scatter the floor beneath the entryway. The door was directly across from the window next to Seth. The window had no glass in it, rose at least fifteen feet in the air, and was half that in width. The view of the outside world revealed a view of large body of water. In the distance Seth could see a shore, where a few sparse tree decorated the wayside.

The temperature in the room was humid, almost to the point of being unpleasant, but a cool breeze drifted in cooling him.

He and Jarrah were alone in the room, but Seth didn't doubt there was a set of gaurds outside, waiting to come to Jarrah's aid should Seth sneeze the wrong way.

"I was having a dream about eating a cheese that tasted of apple pie," Seth yawned. His stomach growled.

"You must be hungry," Jarrah observed dryly.

"Famished," Seth admitted, rubbing his stomach.

Jarrah clapped loudly. Seth tensed when a sapphire-hued graulk slipped into the room. On its back was a stone bowl filled with a red colored goop that resembled clay. The graulk came to rest before Seth. Seth quickly took the bowl, and waited until the graulk had exited to resume the conversation.

"I see that utensils are out of fashion in Silvermoor," Seth remarked, sticking his finger in the goop. He put his finger into his mouth and sucked loudly. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Pretty good. What is it?"

"You do not want to know," Jarrah said seriously.

Seth paused, his finger still in his mouth. "Is it poison?"

Jarrah scoffed. "I would not save your life, only to take it now."

Seth nodded and swirled his finger around the bowl again. "Fair enough. So, where am I?"

"You are in my home. I live, as all of my kind do, in a sky high residence found amisdt the branches of a Gabanna Nut Tree." Jarrah gestured around the room, a proud gleam in his eye.

"So, a tree house?"

Jarrah flicked his gaze back to Seth in annoyance. "Yes."

"That's neat. I had a tree house once. It was destroyed by fairies when I accidentally turned a fairy into an imp. I'm guessing it would take a lot more than a few fairies to bring this place down. How'd I get here?"

Jarrah massaged the sides of his temples, his eyes shut, clearly already over the conversation. "My eagle, Soarow carried you. He is one of the mighty Endorian race."

"Cool," Seth approved.

Jarrah eyed him strangely. "Now, Seth Sorenson, what purpose has driven you to manipulate your way into the dragon sanctuary of Silvermoor?"

"I told you - I want to visit the fairy shrine." Seth batted his eyelashes in mock innocence.

Jarrah did not bother to dismiss this. It was clear enough that he did not believe Seth.

Removing his finger from his mouth, and setting the bowl aside, Seth sighed. "It's been so long," he said at length. "So long since I've told anybody about this. Any of it. Six years, thought it feels like it's been ten. I guess I'd better start at the beginning."

He forced himself to meet Jarrah's gaze. "Six years ago I was summoned to a council of very ancient beings called -" Seth tried to say it but found himself incapable. His mouth opened and closed without sound. He huffed in frustration.

To Jarrah's look of askance, Seth replied, "I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget that I can't say it aloud. It's a curse or something. Prevents me from telling you who they are, or too much about them." Seth had discovered this the first time he had tried to talk about the S.C.O.N.E.S. It was part of the reason he had stayed away from his family. If he told them what was going on they would have tried to help him, which would have put them in danger. And since they couldn't know all of it, they would be in even more danger.

It was very annoying to not be able to give voice to the one thing which unceasingly dominated his thoughts.

"You wouldn't have heard of it anyway," he mumbled. "This organization works for the good of mankind, and they are absolutely, completely critical to our continued existence." An idea had been forming in Seth's mind about the S.C.O.N.E.S, one that vaguely popped into his mind as he was talking. It would be pointless to try to explain to Jarrah, but if his theory was correct, the S.C.O.N.E.S may have been even more important than he'd been led by them to believe.

"One of their own has turned against them. He's missing and causing a lot of damage. Some of which you may have already been experiencing. If he isn't stopped, the world will end. " Seth paused. "And I have reason to believe he's in Zorthanc. I need to get passage there. Don't bother telling me there is no way into Zorthanc from this side, because I heard from a very reliable source that there is. I need to catch him and bring him back to the -" Seth's tongue became like a dead fish in his mouth. He cleared his throat. "To those persons I just mentioned before he succeeds."

Jarrah had listened passively to Seth, face unreadable. Seth wanted to squirm under his cold, hard gaze but resisted.

"So yeah," Seth slapped his thighs and commenced rubbing them. It suddenly occurred to him how uncomfortable his wetsuit was. "Zorthanc. End of the world. Post haste. Pretty much sums it up."

Jarrah stirred. "How have I never heard of this organization? I have knowledge going back hundreds of years. It seems much more likely to me that I have heard of the organization you speak of. If fact, your allusion to a powerful, old organization and request to be allowed into the dwelling of some of the world's most dangerous monstrosities seems very similar to -"

"The Evening Star?" Seth finished for him. "Did you miss the part where I said they were _good_?"

""I'm the certain members of the Evening Star feel justified in its motives. Why else would you ask to be let into one of the oldest fortresses of wickedness in the world?"

"I'm only asking in order to do what's right. I'm a Knight of the Dawn."

"You could have been compromised," Jarrah said cooly. "It would not be the first time one of your rank has defected."

The heat rushed to Seth's face. "I guess I should have brought a character reference." He lowered his voice and spoke precisely. "I am an Eternal. I fought at the Battle of Zzzyx, against the horde of demons. Do you really think I would work with any of those jerkfaces? I _hate_ them."

"So you say. And yet, have you not been gifted with the powers of the night by one you profess to oppose."

_This is about me being a shadowcharmer_, Seth realized. No matter what Seth said, he could see that Jarrah was not going to help him. He had some kind of preconceived notion of the character or nature of shadowcharmers.

Still, with the fate of the world in question, Seth persisted. "Do you have children, Jarrah?"

Jarrah nodded stiffly. "My son will one day succeed me in place of caretaker." Seth was stunned to see the old Anamorph's features soften. "He is all that could be hoped for in an heir. He is just, noble, strong, and clever."

"Do you love him?"

Jarrah nodded again, saying, "More than all the world itself."

Seth smiled. "And your wife?"

The softness vanished. Jarrah narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why do you ask about my family?"

"Do you love her?"

"Why?" Jarrah demanded.

"If you love your family you will help me."

Jarrah rolled his eyes. Seth changed tactics.

"Have you been having trouble around the sanctuary?"

Jarrah's eye twitched. "That's none of your concern." He stood. "We're done here. I cannot allow you to go to Zorthanc. Tomorrow you will be sent away on a boat to return to where you will." He made to exit the room.

"Parts of the islands disappearing?" Seth whispered.

Jarrah turned sharply. "What did you say?"

Seth stood. "People forgetting that those parts ever existed? The maps changing, but you can't remember in what ways? You just have a dreadful gut felling that it's been changed. But what? Then there's the history. The records of things you can't remember having ever been there vanishing. You feeling of familiarity and fear when you look at the starless night."

Jarrah held his breathe. Fear, unmistakable and unreserved, flashed across Jarrah's face. "Who told you?"

Seth shook his head, pitying the caretaker. "Nobody told me, Jarrah. It's not just Silvermoor. It's happening all over the world. You haven't heard of it, because nobody wants to talk about what they can't prove. The evidence disappears faster than it can be processed. And what's left? Only a sense of discontent."

Jarrah had paled significantly. "How could you possibly know, then?"

Seth recalled a memory of the brief time before he set out. After he had agreed to help them, the S.C.O.N.E.S had told him he would start his search in South America, in Brazil.

_"What will I be looking for?" he had asked. "Besides an evil, blue fuzzball, that is."_

_"We cannot say." He had noticed that they said cannot in a way that made him think they meant '_will not'_._

_"Those who are affected by our bretheren's handiwork will not realize it."_

_"What do you mean? I think they would notice if black tsunami was overcoming them."_

_"They won't remember."_

_Seth had gaped at them, but before he could have asked any more questions they moved toward him, in sync, surrounding him. _

_With a hum, they began to speak. _

_Seth remembered the feeling was instantaneous and overwhelming. And it was amazing. A euphoria swept over him and he succumbed to a courage, strength, and confidence like nothing he'd ever encountered. He suddenly felt like his understanding of those characteristics had been superficial up to that point. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. All he could do was feel the words. And then it was over. _

_"Now you will remember," the voices of the S.C.O.N.E.S spoke in a creepy unison, echoing all around him. _

When the storm of lights faded, Seth blinked to find himself in the middle of the rainforest on a small hill. He had been transported to Brazil. He stumbled around until he had come upon a village. Over a few months he discovered that he was near the preserve. But no one that he found could remember anything about the preserve. And then they couldn't remember Seth asking about it. Seth could go back the next day to the same person and ask the same questions, and they would be none the wiser. But Seth remembered.

"Whatever power is working to destroy memories can't affect me. Somehow my memories have been protected. I believe those who sent me here have prevented the - whatever it is - from affecting me through their magic."

Jarrah's face hardened. "You realize that being the only one capable of explaining this casts even more doubt on your integrity, shadowcharmer?"

Seth said nothing, but watched and waited for Jarrah to continue.

Jarrah measured Seth fully. "I will allow that what you say may be true. I cannot however allow you to go to Zorthanc. I will speak with my superiors and see what it is they have to say."

"That will take too long," Seth said flatly. "I need to go as soon as possible. Playing politics could take you months. We have a week left at best."

Jarrah glared at Seth. "You will remain here until I can get permission or you may leave me to investigate you claims."

"Look," Seth felt his face getting hot. "I'm not going anywhere. It has to be me. I'm the only one who can stop him. Haven't you been listening."

"Yes, and I've heard quite enough nonsense for one day. Stay if you want; but we will do this my way, or not at all," Jarrah spoke harshly, his nostrils flaring. Then, without another word, Jarrah left the room. He moved artfully through the small opening, and his antlers (much to Seth's chagrin) did not hinder his exit whatsoever.

"What a drama queen," Seth mumbled sullenly to himself. He sat back down on the flower bed with a grunt of dissatisfaction. Then he lay back down, closed his eyes, and slept.

Well, he pretended to sleep, anyway. He wanted to make certain that whoever was guarding him thought that he had made up his mind to go along with Jarrah's plan. Or at least that he was too tired to do otherwise.

In reality, behind the dark curtains of his eyelids, his mind worked at a furious pace to devise an escape plan. There was no way he was waiting for Jarrah to gain approval from the powers that be. He had desired and hoped for Jarrah's support. In truth, it would have made his job significantly less difficult. When he thought about how much harder it was going to be to find the secret way from Silvermoor into Zorthanc with the caretaker and his army of giant eagles and lizards - not to mention his Anamorph buddies - set against him, Seth was nearly sorry he'd hadn't been nicer to the old stag-man.

Seth waited until he felt the warmth of the sun leave the room before he opened his eyes again. When he did, though, he was startled to find himself staring into wide, bright, unblinking eyes not an inch away from his face.

* * *

**A/N: Any guesses who is peering in on Seth while he's sleeping?**

**On a different note, did anyone else hear the rumor that our dear Brandon Mull is coming out with a sequel series to Fablehaven in 2016?! **

**Guest: I did read the Beyonders books, and thoroughly enjoyed them. And I do write outside of the fanbased blogosphere. I have three novels in the works (none of which are close to being published!). **


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